


Reciprocation

by Fleurete



Series: The Curving of the Coastline [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28772040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fleurete/pseuds/Fleurete
Summary: Birthdays were always a big deal in the Oikawa household. This year, Tooru's birthday is a competition.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Series: The Curving of the Coastline [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109459
Comments: 11
Kudos: 90





	Reciprocation

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during the last part of one of my [other stories](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364037). I recommend reading that first, though this can be read as a stand-alone.

Birthdays were a big deal in the Oikawa household.

The earliest one Tooru could remember was his sixth, when his parents had surprised him with a cake as big as the brand new volleyball sitting beside it. His sister had no club activities that day, and she had picked Tooru up from his school. They were met with silence and extinguished lights when they arrived home, but from the kitchen he could smell something sweet. His parents had elicited shrieks of terror from him when they’d jumped out from behind the couch, his father holding a volleyball Tooru’d pointed out weeks before. His sister had recorded Tooru blowing out the candles on the massive cake and the subsequent mess he’d made as he stuffed his face

Other birthdays were memorialized in the albums lining the shelves of his parents’ home back in Miyagi. Some of them he couldn’t remember, like with the photos of him as a baby dressed up in adorable rompers and pom-pom adorned hats. Some of them were displayed in the frames in his own apartment in Buenos Aires, like the one spent with his schoolmates at a ramen joint, or the one right after he’d moved countries when his new team had taken him to a volleyball game.

Birthdays were incredibly important events. His were, at the very least.

Being abroad, he didn’t get to have quite the same experience when his special day rolled around. Packages arrived from the same friends and family, and he’d videochat with them when they were all able. But there was one more person to add to that list this year.

“Ushiwaka,” he whined, “I’m cold. You need to come over here.”

“The journey would be almost an entire day. The connection takes some time,” Ushijima said from the earbuds connected to Tooru’s phone. His voice sounded far, and Tooru could hear water running. Tooru imagined him putting on a facemask in the bathroom with his hair held back by a cloth headband. He stifled a chortle.

One of the neighborhood kids waved to Tooru, and he waved back as he continued walking the street to his apartment. “You checked the flights?”

“I was curious. I am considering visiting if I have the time.”

Tooru felt a bit warmer underneath the gray winter sky. His mouth widened into a smile. “The journey is a small price to pay to see me in the flesh.”

“That is true. There is not much that is worth more than that. Except, perhaps, for the actual cost of the trip.”

“Nonsense. Everyone should need to pay to see me,” Tooru laughed. “Anyway, you’re a hotshot in the foreign leagues now. You’re just flush with cash now, aren’t you?”

Tooru could only hear the water tap for a moment. When it shut off, Ushijima said, “I believe it takes more than a few days to earn enough money to make me that wealthy.”

“But soon your salary will match your annoyingly fantastic skill. How is it in Poland? Are you drinking some of that vodka? They're supposed to have the best.”

“I have not tried it, but I will tell you how it is,” Ushijima said. He paused, and Tooru waited for him to continue. Soon Ushijima’s voice was closer, like he’d put his phone next to his ear. “It is… different here. The people, the buildings, the language, everything is new to me.”

“Yeah, it must be. It can take a while to get used to it. I should know.”

“Was it difficult for you?” Ushijima asked. “I would like to be as comfortable as you are in your new home.”

Tooru thought about it as he stopped at a local stall to pick up some fresh produce. He spoke into the tiny microphone attached to the cord of his earphones. The old lady running the place was flipping through a magazine and paid him no mind; she was, by now, well used to the sight of him mumbling seemingly to himself.

“Honestly? Not really. Sure, it took some time to really, truly get used to things. Sometimes I still speak Japanese when I’m taken by surprise, or I’ll be caught off guard by some different custom, but the challenge of something like this is fun.”

“I expected no less from you,” Ushijima said, and Tooru could hear the pride in his voice.

Tooru brought his selection to the woman and she started calculating the total. “Maybe you’ll pick up some Polish. Teach me that and I can teach you Spanish.”

“That is not a bad idea. Although having you speak Spanish can be distracting.”

“Makes you hot and bothered?” Tooru joked.

“I would not put it in such terms, but it is attractive, yes.”

Tooru was thankful for the scarf draped around his neck that covered some of his flush, but his cheeks were not so lucky. As he handed the woman his payment, he spoke more quietly so she would not think he was talking to her. “You are so embarrassing. But it’s lucky for you that I like it,” he said in Spanish.

“Oikawa,” Ushijima warned, “It is late.”

“Aw, but you’re at home now, right? We can have a little fun before you sleep,” Tooru said in his native tongue. He took his change, nodded his thanks, and continued on his way. “Ah, you haven’t shown me around yet! Can I see?”

“It is nothing special. My place is not, at least.”

“I don’t care. I just want to see if it’s as fancy as the apartment you have in Tokyo. And if you’ve clipped out any of my interviews. I always make sure they choose the best photos. Of course, it’s hard not to when they’re all so good.”

“If you would like. Unfortunately, I have not been able to take a look at the magazine selection here.”

“Hold on,” Tooru said. He moved his plastic bag to the other hand, took his phone from his jacket pocket, and activated the video function on the call. The invitation was accepted, and Ushijima showed up on the screen. A damp towel hung around his neck, dripping a few rivulets onto a thin t-shirt.

“You are playing a dangerous game right now,” Tooru said.

“What do you mean?” Ushijima tilted his head to the side.

“Oh, nothing. Pull your phone away for a second.”

Ushijima’s brow rose in question, but he did as Tooru said. Tooru enjoyed the sight of a freshly-showered Ushijima, his hair wet and shirt almost transparent. He wanted to demand more, but that was bit too much of a dangerous move while he was in public.

“Is that enough for you?” Ushijima said with a lilt to his voice that sounded eerily like Tooru himself.

“For now, plenty. Save the rest for later,” Tooru grinned. “Gimme the tour.”

It _was_ nicer than Ushijima’s Tokyo abode, though it was definitely older. There was far more room, and the walls were a calming light brown. The appliances weren’t as up-to-date, but the furniture all looked new and expensive.

“Wait,” Tooru interjected as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. “Go back. No, further. Not your weights. On the shelves, beside the TV. Right there.”

“You are referring to the photographs?”

“Yeah. I want to take a closer look.”

Ushijima moved his phone so that Tooru’s screen showed the few frames neatly lined up. Tooru put his groceries down and fished his keys out of his bag with his eyes glued to his phone.

“Did you have those in your other place?” Tooru asked. “I don’t remember seeing them.”

“No. I wanted to bring a piece of home with me this time.”

“Very poetic of you.” Tooru opened the door, kicked it closed behind him, and flipped on the lights. He put his things down before plopping on the couch. With his earphones unplugged and tossed aside, he leaned forward to get a closer look at the phone in his hands.

“Is that your family? You take after your father. Must’ve been an emotional day when he realized you’d surpassed his height. Actually, are you even taller than him?”

“Yes. I was rarely able to visit him, so I believe it was shocking for him when he visited while I was in high school.”

“He’s in the States?” Tooru recalled Iwaizumi’s retelling of his encounter with Ushijima.

“That is correct. It was always an undertaking for either of us to make the trip.”

Tooru stared at the photo for a moment longer. It was a family photo, but not the stuffy kind that might have cost a hefty sum in a studio, all restrained and perfect. They were at a beach, and Tooru guessed it was one in the States. Ushijima’s father plastered on a broad-toothed smile as he donned some sunglasses while lounging on a beach chair, and his mother sat on a towel with a teenaged girl, presumably Ushijima’s sister. Only his father looked prepared for the photo, with the other two engrossed in a book they were sharing. Tooru had said Ushijima resembled his father, but the man’s open expression was nothing like Ushijima’s, whose minute flickers of emotion were only perceptible to those who knew him well. No, Tooru instead saw the likeness in his mother, with her eyes narrowed in concentration and her hair kept short and practical, out of her face with a few pins.

“You didn’t choose a picture with you in it. Though everyone does look like they’re enjoying themselves.”

“I prefer not to have myself in these photos. That being said—“ Ushijima moved the camera a bit, showing the rest of the photos. One portrayed the Shiratorizawa volleyball team in front of the entrance to their school. Ushijima was in the centre, and Tooru could not remember the names of most of the others but he sure as hell remembered their faces. The next one was in a curry restaurant, with only Ushijima and the one Tooru remembered as Tendou, who Ushijima spoke of the most when it came to his friends. Ushijima was again stoic, which clashed hilariously with the peace sign he was throwing up. Tendou was expressive enough for the both of them, sporting a halfway maniacal grin. Tooru wondered how the two of them actually got along. Would he have to meet Tendou sometime as something other than a competitor, seeing as he was dating his best friend? Tooru shuddered at the thought.

And, bringing up the end of the line, was the photo Tooru had taken of them a few months ago at the Falls, when he’d ushered Ushijima into the picture and they’d stood side-by-side in that humid summer heat.

“You printed it?” Tooru exclaimed. He was glad Ushijima couldn’t see him, because he was pretty sure he was giving the most maudlin smile. “And you had it framed. Do you have a crush on me?”

Ushijima laughed, and its low tone did something to Tooru’s gut. “My feelings have certainly exceeded that stage.”

Tooru burrowed his chin deeper into his scarf, which he had not yet removed. He wasn’t going to mention that he’d made the same picture the wallpaper of his cell phone.

“That’s good to hear,” he mumbled, ears red.

They moved on, past the kitchen and the den and into the bedroom. Tooru really should have started getting dinner ready, but he didn’t want to move from the sofa. He had settled back into the cushions, neglecting to do much else. When the camera passed over the bedroom, which was kitted out with a sleek black set of matching furniture, Tooru noticed a small package sitting on a set of drawers next to the closet. He wouldn’t have paid it any mind if the surfaces weren’t so bare.

“What’s that?”

“My bed?”

“Shut up. I’m talking about that box.”

“Ah. It is your gift.”

Tooru sprang forward, almost knocking his shin into the coffee table. “You got me something?”

“It is nothing extraordinary, but I hope you will like it regardless,” Ushijima said with an uncharacteristic shyness.

“Ooh, what is it? Tell me. Wait, actually, don’t. Is it better if I don’t know? How did you even manage to get something when you’ve been busy with the new gig?”

“I will tell you if you truly wish to know, but I think a surprise would be more effective.”

Tooru’s head swam with ideas for what it could be. He’d dropped suggestions of his birthday next week, although they were incredibly obvious in hindsight, hinting at that big two-six when he would be officially what his child-self had considered old. He didn’t expect anything, never did, but he appreciated the acknowledgment and well wishes.

A card? Clothes? Those shoes Tooru wanted but couldn’t find? Nothing screamed _Ushijima._ What did he do for his family’s birthdays? His friends? Tooru didn’t have the slightest clue. Ushijima didn’t seem the sentimental type, but he’d put up photos of those dear to him and had clearly thought through Tooru’s gift. Back when they were in school, Tooru wouldn’t have even thought him capable of normal human emotion.

“No. No,” Tooru blurted out. “It’s only a week. I can wait.”

Ushijima gave him a disbelieving look that said _can you? You’re bursting at the seams._ But he didn’t press it, and he simply said, “All right.”

They weren’t able to make time for another videochat after that. Tooru was doing around-the-clock practices with the national team in preparation for the Olympics, and Ushijima was settling in with his new team. Messages were sporadic, and Tooru forgot about his birthday until his alarm woke him up at six in the morning on the twentieth. With blurry vision, he tapped his phone wildly until the chirping stopped. He sat up, swiped at his eyes, and stretched. He went through his usual morning routine: use the washroom, get dressed, grab his gym bag off the floor, take a couple cereal bars from the pantry, and head out the door. With a bag strap falling off his shoulder and munching away at a bar, he checked his cell as he walked to the stadium.

_Have a good one, asshole. You’ve made it as far as I knew you would, but there’s still more to go. Keep an eye on the mail. Don’t throw it away if you don’t like it. I still have the receipt._

Tooru grinned at Iwaizumi’s message and made a mental note to send back the gift if it wasn’t his thing, but with a knick or tear that would leave it unreturnable. He scrolled down to see the rest of his messages. Matsukawa and Hanamaki also wished him well in their own _unique_ way. His parents left a voicemail that Tooru needed to remember to return to later, and his sister sent a single cutesy _Happy Birthday!_ stamp. Her lack of effort was somewhat mitigated by her son, who left a video message. Takeru was a good kid, though Tooru didn’t need to click play to know he’d be insulted and touched in equal measure. The San Juan team also sent him messages in their group chat, as well as several other friends he’d made here.

And at the very bottom was the earliest text, delivered around midnight. Ushijima must have sent it as soon as he woke up.

_Happy birthday, Oikawa. I hope we will be able to see each other in person for your next one._

Tooru thought of next summer, when their paths would converge in Tokyo. The anticipation of the challenge of their competition, of their next time together, made Tooru’s step lighter, made him beam. He wished it would be sooner.

Practice was exhausting, putting him and the rest through the wringer. The coach called for relentless drills, demanding more but never too much. Tooru had no room left for idle thought, so when he came home to a grumpy delivery man standing outside his door, Tooru had to take a moment to collect himself before rushing forward to relieve the guy of his packages.

“Sorry,” Tooru muttered. He signed the slip the man waved in his face and took the boxes off his hands. They weren’t heavy or big, but they sat unwieldy in his arms as the man left and Tooru unlocked his door. A shot of excitement perked him up when he carefully put them on the coffee table and inspected them; there were two packages, and one was labelled _Iwaizumi Hajime_ while the other bore _Ushijima Wakatoshi_ in blocky lettering.

Iwaizumi’s package sat on top. It was a rectangular box and parceled in brown paper. Tooru ripped it open and when he saw the logo for the brand he liked, he moved faster. It was a shoebox, and inside was the pair Tooru had been coveting for a long time. They were flashy, black in the dark but shining like iridescent stained glass when light hit them. They’d been sold out everywhere, and Iwaizumi must’ve been keeping tabs on any new stock. Tooru handled them with reverence, putting them safely back in the box.

Ushijima’s gift was bigger and sealed up with heavy-duty tape. Excitement tore through Tooru and he nearly bounced on the balls of his feet. Sure, he liked the kind words and good wishes, but nothing beat the thrill of anticipation right before tearing into a present.

The tape was tough, and Tooru had to grab a knife to rip it open. Inside was a light blue, cloth sling bag. It was in Johsai colours, and Tooru paused. It was too heavy to just be a bag. When Tooru finally took it out of the box, he unbuckled the flap and sucked in a breath at what he saw. A camera sat nestled inside. A couple cables and a case with a memory card were zipped into an inside pocket, while another section was filled with lens. A manual was fit snugly against the lining of the bag, and Tooru pulled out the envelope that was beside it. He opened it and flipped open the simple embossed card that was inside.

_I tried to send this as soon as I could so it could reach you in a timely manner. I know you did not request something like this, but I could not forget the enchantment on your face when you handled my own camera during our little excursion back then. I am sure you will make good use of it, even if you will be the prominent subject. I would love to see the shots you take. Happy birthday._

Ushijima had signed his name at the bottom, and Tooru stared at it. This was not what he had expected, but then again, he hadn’t any expectations in the first place. He took great caution when he lifted the camera out of the bag, expecting it to crumble to dust in his hands. It did not, and when he powered it on, he looked through the viewfinder. He pointed it at the windows overlooking his living room balcony. The world was clear as crystal. His lips quivered with elation, some euphoric buzz warming his insides and sending his fingers tingling. He replaced the camera, took out his phone, and sent a message to Ushijima with an unsteady smile.

_Thank you. I love it._

It was Tooru’s move. Ushijima had replied with a simple _I am glad it is to your liking_. Always so nonchalant, every act and word seeming so effortless. It riled Tooru up to no end. He needed to match Ushijima, find something that would leave him awestruck and break that cool composure of his.

But what would that be?

Tooru had to double-check the date of Ushijima’s birthday; he knew it was soon, but he wasn’t going to ask. The Internet wasn’t lacking in information on one of Japan’s top athletes, and he easily found what he was looking for. He had until the thirteenth. That was about three weeks to think of something so disgustingly heartfelt that Tooru himself wouldn’t think he was able to pull off. When practice slowed down enough to allow him to think about things other than which pass to make or which player to set to, he considered his possibilities.

He couldn’t get Ushijima something as thoughtless as a gift card. Cologne, chocolates, flowers, they were all generically pleasant gifts, suited for first dates. Was there a guide on relationship advice for decade-old rivals that got together but still wanted to beat the other at everything?

The weeks went by and Tooru was no closer to finding the right answer. He had a fleeting thought of sending a joke gift like he’d done for his friends sometimes, of cutouts of his profiles or magazine spreads with his face front and center. Ushijima would likely take it better than his friends would, but Tooru would not be able to live with himself. It would be as good as admitting defeat.

“Tooru, watch out!”

Tooru looked up in time to see the ball falling into his face. He reacted out of instinct, making a net with his hands and tossing the ball back up and toward one of the spikers. He shook himself out of his thoughts and returned to the game.

If he wanted to have something delivered by the thirteenth, he needed to act fast. His ideas were running out. Something related to their shared hobby and job would be appreciated, but it seemed like the easy way out. What did Ushijima like? What did he want?

Tooru sat on a bench facing the waterfront and the boats drifting past. The shutter of the camera clicked in his ears as he pointed it at the sun making its journey past the horizon line, behind the docks. It was a Friday before a rare weekend off, and he took his time finding the best shots he could. Two seagulls took flight against the backdrop of the dying light, and Tooru snapped away.

Ushijima was devoted to his family. He was serious about everything he did, was determined to be the best player he could be. He was stone-faced, aloof, unknowingly egotistical. He was also gentle, loyal, and surprisingly kind. Tooru framed an illuminated sailboat within the viewfinder, and clicked.

Tooru thought back to the Adlers’ time here, when Ushijima had changed from a former bane of his existence to something completely different. He thought of Ushijima’s apology, of that spark that flared in him when he had finally set for Ushijima. He thought of their trip, that horrendously awkward plane ride and the hotel room they’d shared. He remembered Ushijima’s wonder when they’d made it to the Falls, the awe.

Something clicked, but it wasn’t the camera. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea Tooru’s ever had, though it was far from his worst. Ushijima hadn’t had time to look beyond the Falls, but Tooru was sure he would have wanted to. Tooru packed away his camera and started the walk back to his apartment. He would need to wake up bright and early tomorrow.

He managed to make it to the station in time for the first train out. It was almost empty when he boarded and occupied a window seat. He hadn’t taken one of these long distance rails in a while. There was plenty of legroom and the seats reclined for more comfort. He settled in and tinkered with his phone as he awaited departure.

The day was pleasantly mild, and small bunches of clouds drifted through the morning sky. Tooru pulled down his window as an announcement declared their next destination. He took his camera and placed it in his lap. When the train started leaving, slow at first then picking up steam, he watched the buildings flick by and the city lazily come to life, with early risers sweeping the streets and dogs leading their owners by the leash. Then the towering buildings became fewer and the distances between them widened, and the scenery turned flatter, quieter. He delicately held his camera on the windowsill to steady his aim, and had a finger on the shutter button.

He took pictures of anything and everything. The fields rolled endlessly over sloping hills and met the base of mountains at their crest. Cows grazed in the distance, and flocks of sheep were blots of white on the landscape. He took shots of a herder atop a horse, the both of them miniscule beneath the peaks behind them. He captured a lake in the lens that reflected the blue of the sky above. The wind jostled Tooru’s hair about and left his face cold, but he couldn’t feel it as he gazed out at the countryside and pressed down on the shutter over and over again.

There were several destinations on the line. He hopped out when he wanted a stretch or when he found something intriguing as the train pulled in. He spoke with townspeople, asked about their cheese-making business or the statue erected in the square. They were happy to have their photos taken if he asked, and he would get back on the train again. The morning went by like this and slunk into late noon by the time Tooru got to the end of the rail.

He disembarked and grabbed something to eat before jumping onto another train. This one was busier, but Tooru still managed to find a seat adjacent to a window. Occupying the row in front of him were two kids, a brother and sister that sat with their knees and feet on the seats and their heads leaning out of the open window, eager for the route ahead. Their parents kept having to pull them back inside.

The train started rumbling. Tooru got into position again. Before long, they were chugging along an elevated track through the mountains that could give someone vertigo. It snaked though the highest peaks, and as the train proceeded on its route, it seemed to float on air. Tooru thought it was the closest one could get to flying. He clicked, and clicked.

When they ground to a halt, it was starting to get dark. Tooru wasted no time in starting the long trip back home. He would have slept the whole way, but the light fading away made for different shots.

It was late evening when Tooru pushed open his apartment door, and almost midnight when he crashed into bed. He thought it was a job well done, but he knew he’d think differently in the morning.

And he did. He still did when he went to the post office on Monday and when the thirteenth came around. He didn’t have time to second-guess himself with all the practice, but when Tooru wished Ushijima a nice birthday through text, the self-doubt showed itself again.

God, what if Ushijima hated it? Tooru honestly didn’t know how he himself would take it if he got the same gift. What if Ushijima left him for this? As if Tooru would let him be the one to break them up. No, Tooru would have the last laugh.

But it wouldn’t come to that. Right?

He was pathetic. How was he getting this worked up over _Ushijima_? Tooru oscillated between insufferable self-confidence one moment and extreme nervousness the next. When his phone dinged with a reply from Ushijima after stepping out of the shower, his gears entered the second mode and got stuck there, wheels turning furiously in the mud.

Pulling of the bandage, he checked the message. It read, _Thank you. If you are able, may we speak soon?_

No mention at all about the package. Tooru ground his teeth together and just barely resisted biting his nails. Ushijima was furious. Too angry for words. He was going to call Tooru and demand a refund for the time he spent being infatuated with Tooru. Tooru resolved to force the words out of his mouth first before Ushijima would be able to. _Sorry, but I think we should…_

It would be no big deal.

 _Is now ok?_ He sent back.

The affirmative response was instant. Tooru, only half-dry, pulled on some sweatpants and a shirt. His hair was a tangled mess, and he toweled at it as he took his laptop to the bed. Casual. Casual, and he wouldn’t reveal the drumbeat going on right now in his chest.

The invite went through immediately. Ushijima was sitting down this time, his upper body framed by the window behind him. Tooru wanted his camera; it would have made a nice picture.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Ushijima said.

“Nope, if I waited until this,” Tooru gestured to his hair, “was done, you’d be waiting ‘till morning.”

“It would not be the first time.”

Okay, a joke wasn’t bad. If Ushijima was going to let him go, he was going to do it lightly.

“I didn’t hear any complaints.”

Ushijima’s mouth twitched. “Only because you refused to listen.”

“I always listen,” Tooru said, pretending offense. “When it’s important, anyway.”

“Oikawa—“ Ushijima started, and Tooru’s mouth started moving of its own accord.

“You got it, didn’t you? It’s fine if you want to toss it, but I just didn’t know how to return the favor. Not that I spent that long thinking about it. I saw how you felt when we went to the waterfalls, it was obvious that you were fascinated, with the way you took a million pictures. So I thought I’d give you kind of a tour through some of the rest of the country. Wow, that sounds lame, right? Anyway, I always have some of my magazine interviews to give you because I know you’re dying for those instead. But I understand if you want to just. Leave me?”

Sometime during his spiel, he bunched the towel up in his hands and started picking at it. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the screen, so he focused his attention on the towel. It had an old stain from where a drop of juice had gotten on it, and he rubbed it with the pad of his thumb.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” Tooru finished, then laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Oikawa,” Ushijima repeated, this time quieter. “I thought you were clever when it came to words, but I believe I may have been misled.”

“What do you mean? That was an award-winning speech. It deserved to be caught on tape.”

“Look at me.” The words were firm but tame, more of a coaxing than a demand.

“Don’t want to.”

Ushijima sighed, and he seemed more at the end of his rope than he had ever been, fingers hanging on by a fibre. Tooru prepared himself.

“Do you know how much I want to touch you right now?” Ushijima said.

Tooru felt the small smile blooming on his face and the relief that made his shoulders sag. “No, but I will if you tell me.”

“I want to kiss you until your doubt leaves you and your usual pride takes its place. Your confidence while you are in a game suits you far better. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

“How long have I been playing for?” Tooru said, chancing a look at the chat window before looking down again. Ushijima’s eyes curved up from his gentle smile, and Tooru’s insides twisted like they were in a blender. “You may be immune to all this, and of course you know _just_ what to do and what to say when it comes to this _relationship_ , so I’m sorry if I have no damn idea how to navigate this since I’ve never had anything this serious. I’ve been playing since I even knew what a volleyball was, obviously I’m going to be scared now when I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

It would have been humiliating to admit that, but Tooru’d already made a fool of himself regardless—might as well add to the shame pile. Let Ushijima laugh if he wanted to, but he was too good for that. Too nice.

Tooru waited in silence for a second. That second stretched to two, then three. Tooru had really done it now. When stewing in uncertainty and annoyance became too much for him, he looked up, and his hands stilled in their mission to decimate the towel.

Ushijima had leaned forward in his seat. His brows were drawn together, and his cheeks were pink. He wet his lips before speaking.

“If I have given the impression that I know what I am doing, I apologize. This is as novel for me as it is for you.”

“Oh.”

Tooru hadn’t considered that. He thought that Ushijima would be as extraordinarily competent at everything else as he was on the court.

“I’m not your first, am I?” Tooru laughed. “I don’t know if I can handle the responsibility.”

“No, but it is my first time with you. That in itself makes this different. More serious, as you said.”

“But you’re always so _calm_ , like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“I—I am not. You are unaware of your effect on me, Oikawa. When we speak, or when I see you, or touch you, I am happy in a way I thought had always been out of my reach. I thought I was the luckiest person alive when you reciprocated my feelings, and I still think I am. I do not know how best to approach this relationship sometimes, because I am afraid of losing you.”

The burning of Tooru’s face could set his whole body alight. He wanted to bury his face in the towel until it subsided and have it smother his dumb grin. “You chided me for being scared when you were feeling the same way?”

“That is a fair point,” Ushijima conceded.

“I’m delighted you realize how lucky you are to have me in your life,” Tooru said, “but I’ll make this clear: the sentiment isn’t one-sided. I don’t want this to end, either.”

Tooru left it at that; he refused to elaborate for fear of combustion out of embarrassment and happiness.

“Thank you for telling me,” Ushijima said with an amazement that wrapped around Tooru like an embrace.

The towel was still a bit damp. Tooru resumed rubbing at his hair with it, because he thought he’d explode if he didn’t do something. He was less nervous and more fidgety.

“Now that we both know how hopeless we really are, how was your birthday? Get any spectacular gifts? Aside from mine, obviously.”

Ushijima laughed. “Of everything I had received, I enjoyed yours the most.”

He reached out to take something from the table his computer was sitting on. The photo album in his hands was a matte black, classy without being ostentatious. Tooru was proud of his choice, and he’d taken hours poring through his shots and selecting the very best ones he’d taken to fill the album’s pages.

“I would like to visit these places with you, someday.” Ushijima looked down at the pictures with the same awe that Tooru was pleased to say he was becoming familiar with. “You have talent with a camera. I had a feeling you would.”

“Next time I’m going to where you are. Before I do, show me the photos you take, okay? I want to see what Poland’s like.”

“I will.”

“I wanted to send some more… risqué pictures too, but I thought that’d ruin the vibe I was going for.”

“You could make up for that now,” Ushijima suggested, a hint of amusement in his eye.

The corner of Tooru’s lips lifted slyly, and he made himself comfortable on the bed.

Birthdays were always a big deal for Tooru, and he hoped he’d be celebrating this one for years to come.


End file.
